


The Glow

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Fluff, M/M, Playful Gabriel, Romance, Self-Conscious Dean, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up one morning and sees a part of Gabriel that he shouldn't be able to see. Even though Gabriel seems less than concerned, his vagueness surprisingly doesn’t carry over into other parts of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glow

**Author's Note:**

> So every time I write ten thousand words for a bang or something I allow myself to write a couple small things as a reward. Also, hopefully this encourages me to finish up my debriel mini-bang story. Oh, and this is nothing but fluff if you care to know.

It’s unbelievable and even a little unthinkable, but one day Dean opens his eyes to find Gabriel stretched out beside him on the bed, one wing folded against his back and the other held above his prone form, shimmering in the slant of sunlight coming in through the window.

He sits upright in bed immediately, tucking his legs underneath him, body frozen in fear as he waits for the slightest movement of Gabriel or those massive, blindingly _real_ wings.

“What’s with your wings?” He has to say something eventually, because Gabriel’s wings are completely freaking the indestructible and not scared of anything Dean Winchester out. This is not what he wanted to see when he opened his eyes, this is not a good way to start his morning....

“Huh?”

Gabriel doesn’t open his eyes, only curls deeper into the mattress, wings barely shifting before the human’s eyes. Dean will never admit it, but he _is_ kinda cute, what with the sleepy look of contentment on his face and the way his hands curl around the pillow. Gabriel loves to snuggle, and he has no intentions to hide it from Dean either.

Dean suspects it’s not all for the archangel’s benefit.

He secretly likes it when Gabriel’s smaller, infinitely more flexible form wraps around him, making him feel safe and reassuring him that he doesn’t have to be in the protector role twenty-four seven.

Dean swallows, his cheeks probably growing a little pink in embarrassment from spying on the archangel and thinking all these things about him, but he looks up at Gabriel’s impressive wings again: a radiant gold that puts the sun to shame. There are amber streaks a plenty amongst the shimmering gold - not surprising given their sheer size - and Gabriel suddenly feels larger than life to Dean all over again, though this time with undeniable proof.

“They’re all....” How should he put this delicately; moreover, how should he say it without saying the word _girly_? “Glowy,” Dean finishes, surely, admitting that it sounded better in his head.

Gabriel’s wings twitch, though whether from anger or just irritation Dean doesn’t know, and he’s ashamed to admit that he almost jumps out of bed and makes a run for it. He’s at the very edge of the bed now, looking at Gabriel as if he has never seen him before and in a way he hasn’t, not like this anyway, and one little shove in the wrong or _right_ direction will send him crashing towards the ground.

“It’s too early to be awake, kiddo. Go back to dreamland.”

Or rather, _nightmare_ -land. Those wings are bound to give him a whole new set of fears, not to mention a brand new list of reasons why Dean should never think that he knows anything remotely about Gabriel.

Dean doesn’t budge or even consider going back to sleep, merely continues to stare at Gabriel’s wings in both fear and awe, somehow remembering to close his mouth and keep it shut this time. He has never seen them before - such a pure manifestation of his grace - and knows that as a human he _shouldn’t_ be able to see them, not even their shadow out of the corner of his eye. Gabriel doesn’t seem surprised no matter how much the human worries, as if it’s been his choice all along to show Dean one of the secret, _hidden_ parts of him.

Gabriel opens his amber eyes after several moments of silence, and they find Dean’s startled and confused ones, his mouth curving up into a lazy grin when they do. Faster than Dean can comprehend - faster than it seems _fair -_ the archangel snakes an arm around Dean’s waist and pulls him closer until Gabriel’s face is buried tightly in the human’s neck. Dean can feel Gabriel breathe him in, and while it freaked him out as little as a week prior, he’s now learning to expect it.

Dean reaches upward and hesitantly strokes a feather. He feels brave now that Gabriel’s affection towards his inane concern is as palpable as other areas of their fucked up relationship. “They’re even softer than they look.”

Gabriel practically purrs at Dean’s murmur, fingers caressing his shoulder and then soft, plump lips kissing his skin. The archangel’s wings bend forward, or rather, _crash_ into Dean’s personal space and surely wrap around him, clouding his inner sense of doubt. He opens his mouth to protest but Gabriel’s candy-coated mouth covers his own and silences him, arms wrapping around his own tense limbs.

“Relax, tiger. I’m not going to strangle you.”

He lies, very still, in Gabriel’s arms, a willing victim of his whims and the wings that seem both a part of him and their own startling entity. “You won’t,” Dean shivers slightly at the chill creeping across his exposed areas, primarily his upper back. “But they might.”

Gabriel sighs, “They’re a manifestation of my grace. And they’re glowy, by the way, because I’m happy.”

“Happy?” Dean questions, his hand running through the downy feathers slowly. One wing brushes lightly against his cheek in response, causing him to gasp.

“Yes, happy.” Gabriel’s arms wrap tighter around him, wings flexing and Dean loves the sound they make as they whip powerfully through the space above his head, the hot, stuffy air stirring slightly around them. “As in happy to be here, happy to be Dean Winchester’s cuddling companion.” He plants a kiss on Dean’s forehead, lips lingering tenderly. “You’re always so stupid in the mornings,” he mumbles, “though it does make you cute.”

“Cute?” Dean repeats, horrified. He’s never been called cute before, not even by Gabriel, who - being a chatterbox - will say just about anything to him with no regrets. Dean Winchester is _not_ cute, absolutely could not ever be _cute_. Gabriel could be described as _annoyingly cute,_ but Dean is a bad ass and absolutely does not freak out over wings that are much, _much_ bigger than him, or the fact that Gabriel hasn’t found the need to get rid of his ass yet.

Four months and his clock is still ticking, his heart still beating, sometimes erratically, and Gabriel seems even more relaxed than he usually does, than Dean remembers for sure.

He shrugs, “Normally I would use adorable, but I’m feeling a little more impatient and a little less giving now that you’ve woken me up.”

Dean snorts, refusing to take pity on someone who doesn’t even need sleep. “You were already awake.”

“True, but you could have woken me with something other than the smell of fear in the room. Especially your own.” Dean’s eyes widen at that, shocked at Gabriel’s admission that he doesn’t enjoy seeing him scared.

There are getting to be more and more things that he can hold over Gabriel’s head when the time comes.

“Well, it’s not my fault that I can suddenly somehow see your wings. And seriously, who wouldn’t be a little shocked at getting to see a part of you that I shouldn't even be able to see?” He frowns and bites his lip, wondering why the hell his mouth runs like it does whenever he’s around Gabriel.

“You were more than a little shocked, Dean. I thought you were going to have a heart-attack for a second there.”

“Sure got that response out of you.”

Gabriel’s ridiculously big amber eyes take him in and Dean squirms under his gaze, a drop of blood running past his teeth and down his chin. He’s too exposed where he is and it’s his own damn fault, what with only boxers on and no way to put his barriers back up with a stare so penetrating it’s like he’s stripping away layer after layer of the human’s skin.

“You cold?” Gabriel asks at his tell-tale shiver, a glint of something in his eye.

“Yeah,” Dean lies, not knowing what the hell else to say anyway. Gabriel can read him like an open book, not that he ever does read.

Gabriel smiles when he tries to hide under his wings, wanting to get warm again even though it has nothing to do with the temperature. He changes the subject just as quickly as his wings shift from an occasionally shimmering gold to a more vibrant, sparkling one, setting Dean slightly on edge again. “You worry too much. Seriously, you’ve got to learn to let go. Watch me the next time I refuse to get you pie.”

He lifts his head up from where one wing has curled around the right side of his face. “What...?”

“You’re getting fat.”

Dean instantly goes on defensive mode, Gabriel laughing when his eyes travel uncertainly down to his belly. He lays a hand against it and presses, and is shocked to find it slightly give. He’s probably imagining it, since Gabriel’s so good at riling him up. “Am not,” he pouts, arms wrapping around his stomach protectively.

Gabriel pulls them away and tickles him for a minute, causing Dean’s back to sink into the silk sheets. He laughs and sobs hysterically, begging for mercy until Gabriel lays off just so he can plant a dozen kisses on his face and neck. “You’re right,” he grins, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “but you keep it up and you’re going to get me fat.”

“You can’t get fat,” Dean points out, breathing hard from Gabriel’s early morning torture. “That’s one of the perks of being an archangel, you dick. It’s not fair, you know, the way you keep picking on me.”

“You _are_ adorable.” Gabriel watches him in pleased awe, even more awe than Dean gave his wings. The human feels a surge of joy well up in his chest at Gabriel showing him in every possible way and even admitting that he loves Dean just the way he is. Even when the dark parts of his soul surface, Gabriel is there with a pie and a sympathetic ear and sometimes even a warm bath and a blow job.

“That still doesn’t answer why I get to see your wings.” He feels privileged, really, that Gabriel’s so comfortable to expose that part of himself, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t think that something is up. Is he still human? Or is it just possible that he’s grown so close to the archangel that he can now see a part of his true form?

“And it also doesn’t answer why I’m still hanging around with you. Although, I don’t think I can even come up with a response to that one.”

“You love me.” He says it before his over-thinking mind can come up with something else, something that he’s bound to regret. He already has enough self-loathing without making it worse.

“You do sound awfully sure of yourself Dean-o.”

Gabriel allows Dean to pull away from him so he can sit up and lean back against the pillows on his side of the bed. He had gotten it into his head somehow last night to give Dean another pillow rather than hogging them all, as he was prone to do. Gabriel flips over to lay chest-down on the bed, legs dangling in the air, wings folded and mischievous though amazingly soft eyes staring up at him expectantly.

There’s no way that Gabriel could view him as predictable, even after these four months, but sometimes Dean gets the feeling that he knows _everything_.

His head tips down, almost without him realizing it. “I do, don’t I?”

Gabriel rests a hand on his outstretched leg, putting his head down on it moments later. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He lifts the human’s leg up and scoots under it, positioning himself in between Dean’s legs, which he then pulls up subconsciously.

“Not now, Gabriel,” he growls, but it comes across as more of a whimper.

He ignores him, tickling the underside of his legs, planting kisses to the weathered skin. “Considering that I do love you, you have every right in the world to be sure of it.”

Dean smirks at Gabriel’s admission, “Took you long enough.”

They spend the rest of the day in bed, curled around each other, fingers splayed possessively on Dean’s back and _magnificent_ wings enshrouding him from the world that lay in wait outside. Dean’s no longer ashamed to admit that lazy days with Gabriel are the _best_.

**FIN**


End file.
